Binary Stars
by MissMJS
Summary: (One-shot) Most would say he needs to be fixed, that he's not mentally healthy. Not to him. To him, he's perfect. To him, there's nothing to fix.


**This idea popped into my head, and I just _had_ to share it! If you're curious about the title, look it up. I think it was pretty clever of me! xD**

 **I wish I owned Yuri! On Ice, but I don't.**

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"Yuri!" Victor's panicked voice resonates from their bedroom.

"In the kitchen!" said Japanese man calls back to his lover as he flips over a pancake. Quick footsteps sound through the house, and eventually the man himself bursts through the kitchen doorway, his silver hair tussled from sleep and his crystal blue eyes locked on Yuri. Their poodle, Makkachin, is hot on Victor's heels, the playful pup wagging his tail excitedly. The younger man manages to set down the spatula before his arms are full of the Russian skater, who clings desperately to him.

"You weren't in bed," Victor whines pitifully into Yuri's neck.

"Sorry, I wanted to make you breakfast," the ebony-haired man murmurs, rubbing Victor's back.

The older man straightens and locks his blue eyes with Yuri's russet ones. "Wake me up next time," he demands. Yuri gently cups the Russian's face with both hands.

"Okay, I will."

 **xXx**

Since the beginning, Yuri had plenty forewarning. There were four big signs, however, that if he saw at the time, perhaps would have changed things.

When Yuri first laid eyes on him, it wasn't so much of a sign but more of irony, when he looks back at that moment. He remembers thinking how ethereal that being named Victor looked: that silver hair, that flawless face, and that _captivating_ aura that one cannot ignore, even on a screen. It was magic, what that Russian did on the ice. It enchanted Yuri, and with the little sense he had left while watching Victor's skating, he remembers thinking that Victor could easily bring the strongest to their knees, that the man could totally own someone, body and soul, and they wouldn't even argue against it.

He never realized how perceptive his young mind was until he was the age of 24.

 **xXx**

"Come on, Yuri! You've got to come with us!" Mila begs the Japanese skater while Georgi and Yurio wait at the rink's entrance.

"I, uh, don't know, Mila," Yuri rubs the back of his head, uneasy with being the center of attention. A head of silver hair catches his attention as it crosses the ice, towards where he and Mila are.

"I promise you'll have fun! Their food is just to _die_ for!" the female skater gushes, wanting Yuri to come and visit her favorite restaurant.

 _'Doubt it,'_ the ebony-haired male thinks as he meets Victor's crystal blue eyes. The Russian smiles and cocks an eyebrow, curious as to what Yuri's answer to Mila will be. He just finished coaching Yuri, and now it's his turn to practice, hence why he can't go to lunch with them.

"Sorry," he says, eyes locked on those bewitching eyes. Yuri can see past that smile, see through those eyes. He always could. "I'm not very hungry right now, and I'm pretty tired." He doesn't hear Mila's disappointed response, he just sees Victor's eyes flash with satisfaction before he skates away.

 **xXx**

Yuri's first sign was when he watched a YouTube video from Victor's early skating career. In this competition, Victor won silver, only having missed gold by a mere .13 points. As usual, there was the dashing smile, the twinkling blue eyes, and the grace of royalty as the Russian stood on the podium, holding his silver medal. The camera went to focus on the gold winner, but Yuri stayed focused on his idol, whose face managed to still fit in the screen. Because he was already fixated on the older boy, Yuri saw Victor glance at the gold medal that was dangling beside him. No, _'glance'_ is the wrong word; more like _'glare.'_ Yuri was able to see Victor's eyes darken and narrow, almost as if he were asking the object how dare it not be in his hands. Then, as quick as it had formed, the look was gone and Victor was back to normal.

Yuri, unfamiliar with the emotion at the time, wrote it off as Victor's determination for winning gold showing, and he never gave the look another thought as he glimpsed it throughout the years.

 **xXx**

Yuri lets out a sigh after entering their apartment, tired and just a _little_ tipsy; please, he does not need a repeat of Sochi, no matter how much Phichit begged him to drink more.

"Yuri."

The Japanese man freezes, his breath hitching as a lamp flicks on and bathes the room and the Russian man sitting on the couch with light. He would've laughed at how clichéd the moment is if not for the fact that it's Victor.

"Where were you tonight?" said Russian asks, his face blank, but not his eyes. Oh, never his eyes.

"W-With Phichit. I told you I-I'd be with him at a bar tonight."

Victor holds up his phone and wiggles it. "Oh, really?"

Shit. He forgot about that.

"W-Well, we also went to his hotel room for an hour."

Victor stands and walks slowly towards him. "And do what, I wonder?"

"We were just catching up, Victor, I swear!" Yuri pleads as he slowly backs up. "The bar was so crowded and noisy, we could barely hear each other!" His back hits the wall.

"It never dawned on you to let me know? Imagine my surprise when I used my tracking app to check up on you, only to find out you weren't where you said you'd be." Victor plants his hands on either side of Yuri's head against the wall, his crystal blue eyes boring into the younger man's russet ones.

"I thought you trust me," Yuri whispers, breathing rapidly.

"Oh, Yuri." Victor's right hand lightly traces Yuri's jaw. "It starts out with small lies," His gentle touch then turns into an iron grip. "but the next thing I know, you're tearing my heart out with another."

 _"N-Never,"_ the ebony-haired man breathes, his heart beating erratically. "No one else compares to you. No one else has my heart, my love."

"That's right," A centimeter now separates their faces. "there's no one else, because you are _mine_." Victor's lips crash onto Yuri's, the kiss hard and demanding. Yuri wraps his arms around the Russian's neck, not even flinching when Victor bites his lip. He knows it's going to be a rough night.

 **xXx**

Yuri's second sign wasn't until after Yuri actually met the figure-skating legend. The Japanese skater had just performed his Eros routine with an audience for the first time: the competition against Yurio for Victor. For the first time in years, Yuri had felt proud. When the ebony-haired man looked over at his idol, he was greeted with the look he had long ago dubbed as Victor's determination. He remembers how elated he felt, being the one to draw out that look from Victor, being the one who won Victor's attention.

If Yuri caught Victor staring at him more after that, being more touchy-feely, well, he figured, it was the price he had to pay for having the Russian's attention.

 **xXx**

 _"Yuri Katsuki?"_ Yuri tears his gaze from the shelf of seasonings before him and sees a young blond woman to his left. "Oh my god, you _are_ Yuri Katsuki!" she squeals in Russian, her brown eyes twinkling as she claps her hands excitedly. Most of the time, Yuri is thankful that Victor made him learn Russian. For situations like this, though? He'd _much_ rather hide behind a language barrier.

"Hello," he greets politely, also in Russian, with a bow. Old habits die hard.

"Oh, you even _sound_ amazing!" she gushes, fanning herself. He flushes. "Oh, Yuri, I am such a huge fan! Please, could I take a selfie with you?"

"Oh, uh, sure," he nods. Every now and then he gets really enthusiastic fans like this, and every time he gets so flustered! He wishes he could be as suave as Victor is with his own fans.

"Say 'cheese'!" Right before she clicks the button, she plants a kiss on his unsuspecting cheek. He freezes, his blood running cold as she then purrs in his ear, "if you'd like, I could come with you and show you just how big of a fan of _yours_ I am."

He opens his mouth to warn her off, but he hears footsteps approaching from behind them. Too late. "You really shouldn't have done that," he murmurs instead.

"Yuri!" The female jumps away from Yuri, confirming his question of whether she knows about his and Victor's relationship. "You found another fan, I see?" Victor grins as he drapes an arm over Yuri's shoulders.

"Yes, I am such a big fan of Yuri's!" the blond nods, winking at Yuri. The Japanese skater gives a meek smile in return as he feels Victor's grip on his shoulder tighten.

" _My_ boyfriend is charming like that," he hears Victor coo, and Yuri doesn't even have to look to know the other male is glaring pointedly at the female as he says this.

"Well, I suppose I should let you guys return to your shopping," the blond pouts, staring directly at Yuri. She really doesn't know when to quit.

Nor does she notice Victor's heavy gaze as she leaves. Yuri turns back to the seasonings. He knows there's nothing he can say that will change Victor's mind.

 **xXx**

Yuri's third sign was at the Cup of China, down in the parking garage. When Victor yelled at him not to listen and clamped his hands over Yuri's ears, Yuri came face to face with that dark look again. It was kind of strange to have Victor's determination show itself at that moment, but then again, Victor had been trying to get Yuri to be more confident in himself; perhaps Victor was reaching his wit's end.

The Japanese skater didn't take into account Victor's tighter-than-necessary hold and how his blue eyes followed every little move and every shift of expression Yuri made.

 **xXx**

Yuri looks up from his book when he hears their front door open and close. He sees Victor walk in, his light blue button-up shirt and jeans stained red from blood.

"Hello, my dear Yuri!" Victor beams at him. "Hi baby Makkachin!" he then coos at their dog, ruffling the brown poodle's fluffy head.

"You didn't make a mess in the car again, did you?" Yuri asks worriedly. They had to buy new interior for the car that last time, claiming it was because of their wounded dog.

"Oh, no. I won't do that again," Victor straightens with a grimace, also remembering all those hours wasted on those impossible stains. "No, her body's at her house. The whore was _married_ , did you know that?" Yuri shakes his head. "The husband's not much better though, so I chose to frame him," the silver-haired man shrugs as he unbuttons his soiled shirt.

"And you were careful?" the Japanese asks tentatively. The answer is the same every time, but Yuri can't help but to fear. Death is not a light subject, especially when one is the cause for it.

Victor's shirt drops to the ground – they'll burn it and his pants later – and he walks over to where Yuri is.

"Of course I was, Love." He pulls Yuri up and wraps his right arm around the younger man's waist while his left hand caresses his cheek. "No one can take you away from me," The Russian whispers softy, adoringly, before he lightly kisses the Japanese man.

Yuri knows. If only the lady from the grocery store and all the others could have figured that out, then they'd still be alive.

 **xXx**

Yuri's fourth – also the last that he was blind to – sign was when they were in a hotel room in Barcelona and Yuri had told Victor he wanted to end things after the Grand Prix Final. Yuri was still too stunned by the crying beauty before him to register his blue eyes darkening once again. He didn't see it until Victor grabbed his arm, asking Yuri how he could expect Victor to go back to skating when he was leaving it.

He was about to argue against the older man, to break down his determination, when, "Yuri, you are _my_ student. We still have so much to show the world! _You_ still have so much to show _me_."

They were simple words, inspiring even. However, it was the way Victor said it, the way the Russian looked at him, and the way his idol loomed over the him and kept an iron grip on Yuri's arm that later made Yuri – when he was trying to fall asleep later that night – finally realize that after all of those years, he'd mislabeled Victor's intense look as determination.

It was possessiveness.

 **xXx**

"Excuse me, Yuri Katsuki?" He turns from the frozen veggies to see a petite brunette gazing at him with wide, green eyes. He really should find a different grocery store to shop at; he keeps getting recognized here!

"Yes?" the Japanese skater asks, hoping this one will be wiser than the last.

"I just wanted to introduce myself. I am Alyona Vasiliev, Victor's ex," she sticks out her hand to shake, watching his face carefully. Yuri knows who she is; other than him, she's the one who's dated Victor the longest.

"Yes, Victor's told me about you," Yuri smiles politely and shakes her extended hand.

"And how is he? V-Victor?" Alyona's green eyes dart around nervously, trying to hide her trembling hands, aware she shouldn't be talking to him. Yuri gazes at her sympathetically. She knows, too.

"The same." Her gaze snaps back to him.

"How are _you_ doing?"

"I am happier than I've ever been," Yuri decides to answer truthfully. Her eyes widen in disbelief.

"How can you say that? Surely you know _who_ he is? _What_ he is?" Unfortunately, Yuri's surprised her enough to distract her from her surroundings.

"Alyona." The brunette freezes, her whole body now trembling as her frightened green eyes meet with Victor's cold, hard ones. As expected, the silver-haired male wraps his arm around Yuri's waist, all the while keeping his merciless gaze on the terrified female. She knows, so there's no need to hide.

Yuri welcomes the warmth Victor brings, and he leans his head on the Russian's shoulders. "Yes, I know who he is, and what he is," Yuri answers Alyona, knowing Victor overheard their conversation; he's never far from Yuri. The ebony-haired male turns his head to look at his beloved, and what he sees takes his breath away.

Victor's crystal blue eyes, his expressive eyes, gaze into his own, shimmering with hope and fear. _Fear_. Yuri Katsuki has the power to make his idol, his love, his everything, feel fear.

"He is Victor Nikiforov, and he is _mine_."

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 **I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did! Favorite/review if you liked it!**


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